Today is my youngest child's 3rd birthday. I made her a cake.
Five years ago, I made my son a birthday cake. It stuck to the pan and was completely mangled by the time I got it out. It wasn't even worth saving at all, so we bought a cake at the local grocery store and had them personalize it.
Four years ago, I made my oldest daughter a cake for her second birthday. I remembered to grease and flour the pan so there was no sticking. It was white with flecks of pink, and I frosted it with white cream cheese frosting. I decorated it with strawberry halves. It was beautiful. After running over the frosting one last time, I turned to toss the knife into the sink and caught the edge of the cake plate on my shirt. The whole thing fell upside-down on the floor, completely smashed. My daughter immediately dug into it, eating cake and frosting from the floor. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Three years ago, I made a cake for my son's seventh birthday. Don't know what went wrong there, but it turned out more like a chocolate brownie than a chocolate cake. I swore to never make a cake again.
But this time, my youngest daughter wanted a pink cake, and since I thought I might have a hard time finding one of those at the bakery, I made one. And I didn't burn it, drop it, or smash it. Just in case, though, I took pictures of it after it was decorated. I'll post those as soon as I get them uploaded.